Chapter 17 - COUNTERATTACK
Isabella reached Detective Morales first.
He lifted her into his arms and carried her outside.
I heard her calling for me.
Every part of me wanted to follow.
But Beatriz stood between me and the door.
Police ordered her to get down.
She didn’t move.
Instead, she laughed.
Not hysterically.
Almost peacefully.
“You think this fixes it?”
“No.”
I answered.
“Nothing fixes it.”
“Then what was all this for?”
“To stop you.”
Her eyes filled.
“You left her too.”
The words landed.
Because there was truth inside them.
“You were in Dubai.”
She continued.
“Madrid.”
“London.”
“New York.”
“Always somewhere.”
“I was.”
“You handed me the house.”
“I did.”
“You trusted me.”
“I did.”
“So don’t stand there pretending you had nothing to do with what happened.”
The officers looked at me.
I didn’t look away from her.
“I do have something to do with it.”
Beatriz seemed surprised.
“I should have seen more.”
“I should have called more.”
“I should have listened when Isabella became quiet.”
“I should have known the difference between a peaceful home and a frightened one.”
My voice tightened.
“But my failures do not excuse your choices.”
Her face hardened again.
“You always have an answer.”
“No.”
“I have responsibility.”
I stepped back.
“And so do you.”
Police arrested her.
Outside, Isabella ran to me.
I dropped to my knees.
She hit me with enough force to nearly knock me backward.
Her arms wrapped around my neck.
This time she cried.
Loudly.
Messily.
Like an eight-year-old child should be allowed to cry.
I held her.
“I’m here.”
She buried her face in my shoulder.
“I knew you would come.”
That nearly destroyed me.
Because two days earlier, she hadn’t known.
Maybe she had wanted to believe it.
Now she did.
At sunrise, Beatriz was transported to Seville for questioning.
Carmen agreed to testify.
Inspector Valdés was charged with corruption.
Alejandro remained under guard in the hospital.
It should have felt over.
Then Adrian called.
“They found another file.”
“What file?”
“In Carmen’s account.”
“More stolen money?”
“No.”
His voice was strange.
“It’s about Sofia.”
Everything inside me went still.
“What about her?”
“There was a payment made three weeks before she died.”
“To whom?”
“A private medical consultant.”
I couldn’t breathe.
“Why?”
“We don’t know yet.”
Then Adrian said the words that opened the oldest wound in my life.
May you like
“Mateo.”
“We may need to take another look at Sofia’s death.”
